


Donut Has a Way with Words and Sarge Really Doesn't

by Sweetloot



Series: RVB Pages [11]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Internal Monologue, M/M, because sarge is old and lame and needs to get on that, internal denial to acknowledge feelings, may be OOC though I tried to avoid that, sarge has trouble dealing with crushes okay, some reference to sarge not being able to deal with his big dumb gay feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetloot/pseuds/Sweetloot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I'll miss him like... well, like someone I knew but that I don't really wanna reflect on how deep our relationship went."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Donut Has a Way with Words and Sarge Really Doesn't

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this after reading an old book for class so if some of the language sounds a bit strange in some parts then it was just leftovers from that.

Sarge had no problems speaking. Some would call him a blow-hard, Sarge would yell at then to get back to work while muttering to himself that he was just a well-spoken man.

That all came to a screeching halt when Donut first came to the canyon.

That's not to say that Sarge was always a tongue-tied, bumbling idiot around the boy, no. Sarge was a professional, he could bark out orders with the best of them, but outside of war-scorched battle scenarios, Sarge found communicating with Donut...difficult. 

Much to Sarge's chagrin, Donut didn't seem to have such difficulties. 

Whenever it was just Sarge and Donut, which seemed to be happening with frustrating frequency, Sarge's tongue seemed to dry up and stick to the roof of his mouth, feeling like he was spitting sawdust whenever he tried to speak.

But Donut seemed to be oblivious to the older man's plight, taking Sarge's grunts and forced one to two word replies as stimulating conversation, continuing to happily chat while Sarge continued to kick himself for behaving like a child hiding behind his mother's skirts, unable to speak for choking on shyness.

 _Shy?_ Him? He would have shown you shy while his boot got familiar with your colon, but that was the only way Sarge could describe this bizarre phenomenon that seemed to be happening to him around the young private. Sarge was an honest man, always spoke his mind (though always keeping important information where it should be, with the Reds! And, more importantly, within the chain of command where the most information was at the top). Sarge believed that if you couldn't be honest with anyone else, then you have to at least have to be honest with yourself because everyone else should be treated with at least a little suspicion.

And, since he was being honest, Donut made Sarge feel like an awkward, no-sense teenager again.

And, just like most teenagers when they didn't want to face difficult or confusing feelings, he ignored it in the hopes that it would go away.

But then there was Donut again, same old Donut, who just kept giving him wide, dimpled grins and happy chatter. Donut, who didn't mind Sarge's gruff exterior and cutting remarks, who kept Sarge company with enthusiasm and vigor. Donut, who spoke until it became like a blanket of noise, comfortable and familiar. 

Eventually, speaking with Donut became easier. He'd still get flustered at Donut's frequent use of double entendres, would still grumble to cover up how much the boy's words got to him, but he was working on it, working on talking more with Donut, and, if he wasn't becoming a crazy old man, he thought Donut noticed.

Whenever Sarge would contribute to one of Donut's usually one-sided conversations with an opinion here, a well-timed quip or accidental slip of the tongue there, Donut would tilt his helmeted head a certain way or, if Sarge was lucky and the private wasn't wearing his helmet, he would smile in a slightly different way, not his megawatt smile, but a smaller, sweeter one that would linger for a while before he picked up on a different line of thought and happily let whatever was on his mind flow out.

Sarge knew he should bring up his feelings eventually, what with the way war was and regrets always on the horizon, but he just couldn't, not yet, a lifetime's supply denial and repressed feelings weighing him down.

But maybe he wouldn't have to because even if no one else could parse out what was underneath Sarge's harshness, at least Donut was willing to try and, maybe, Donut would be able to figure out what Sarge couldn't say.

After all, Donut always had a way with words.

**Author's Note:**

> Was just thinking about this pairing so I decided to give it a whirl, hopefully it didn't suck too much.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
